Chapter 6: Four to the Club

Olivia rose, more in trial lawyer than sexpot mode. “A summation may be in order. Gentlemen, like all men, we’re sure that you wonder what the ladies do when they go to the ladies’ room in a group. Sometimes, that’s no more than mutual protection. We might assist with makeup or clothing repair.

“But yes, it’s an opportunity to talk and even scheme. Lynda and I have come to some conclusions. First, we love our partners very much, have good sex lives, but think they can improve, possibly by addressing inhibitions of all of us.

“Second, we have some extremely close friends that could be called extended family, like Arnold and Lynda to John and me.

Third, both couples have open agreements, but haven’t really done anything with them. We might want to make them focus on polyamory, with an occasional individual event.

Fourth, the two of us are eye-catching women. More often than not, we like appreciative and even lecherous looks, if not associated with being cornered and harassed. We both enjoy our husbands eating us with their eyes, if nothing else. We like provocative clothing and love the times our husbands take us shopping for such things.

Lynda mused, “I’m starting to think that we’ve had female friends give me vibes that they might be interested in play. Thinking about it, Arnold, I’m reminded of what you’ve said about how you missed cues. We have Olivia being a lot more explicit and unambiguous.”

Olivia shook her head. “Arnold, why are you hesitating to look at me? Do you really think that I’d wear something like this in public if I didn’t expect people to look? Do you think I wouldn’t enjoy a respected friend looking even closer?

“Do I need to sit on your face before we go out?”

I told her, “I’m still struggling with women giving me positive signals less explicit than you did when me met, and you said you wanted to take me to bed. I’m still struggling to get clear in my mind what naughty and nasty mean. Should naughty be restricted to when she clearly owns what she’s doing?”

Geese and ganders

Lynda came over and hugged me. “I’d say you were overintellectualizing, but then I realize I was getting into my stuff of being criticized for being provocative. Was I being a slut?”

“Dear, what’s wrong with being a slut? You should read a book called The Ethical Slut. All it means is a woman who owns her sexuality ... hold that phrase as vague. A slut is a woman who has as strong a sex drive as the average male. Is he a slut? No, he might get praised as a stud. Let’s get away from double standards.”

She asked Olivia, “OK, then. I’ve got some ideas that we’d probably call nasty, but fun nasty.

“What do you think of having the guys inspect us very closely? John, I don’t just like you for your mind. From what I can see, you look cuddly, and might just be a bear.”

Olivia picked up on the comment to John. “Nice image, Lynda. I support my right to enjoy bare bears.”

John snorted. “Right. Play political imagery. Let me extend:

{block

“This is my rifle.”
“This is my gun.” He patted his crotch.
“One is for fighting.”
“One is for fun.
{}/block}

“John, I didn’t think you were a Second Amendment fanatic. But you support the right to arm bears, apparently.” I shook my head. Lynda threw a pillow at me.

“Can we get back to ordinary decent perversion and away from terrible puns?” Olivia had an idea. “Lynda, let’s sit, spread our legs, and hook together the leg closer to one another. The guys might very well enjoy starting at the waist or feet and working their way up paired legs.

“Guys, at the very least, touch with fingertips. I personally would welcome hands, and a mouth kissing its way up.”

Lynda thought for a moment. “Guys, why don’t you work your way up the paired legs together? It’s probably very hot to watch a friend being your mirror image. Of course, you can reach over to our outside legs while we’re doing that.”

I couldn’t help. My conditioning made me ask, “Are you sure I have permission to touch you rather intimately?”

Olivia shook her head. “Absolutely. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if we didn’t go clubbing, and spent the evening exploring and playing. Even though we might want to work up to greater intimacy, this offers an opportunity for orgasms. I don’t know about you, girl, but it wouldn’t be hard for me to jill myself off while my legs are being caressed.

“I can also do that while kissing or getting tit attention.”

“Tit” made me shake my head, in surprise and delight. Olivia caught it. “Arnold, you like dirty talk? John certainly does.”

I was sweating, and maybe a bit lightheaded. “Olivia, and you too, John, I love it, but it’s clashing with some unpleasant memories from growing up. Maybe it’s just the liberation that I need.”

“Are you getting any ideas out of this?” In Basic Instinct style, Olivia, quickly followed by Lynda, ostentatiously crossed their legs. Both have very attractive legs, of different types. Olivia’ are very slender and chiseled, while Lynda, who still works out quite hard, has larger ones. If Lynda’s thighs seem thick, a close look will show the muscles underlying the smooth skin, and the sharp taper to knees as elegant as Olivia’s.

John added, “I think clubbing is a good idea, if it’s the intimate kind. Can we follow up on what Lynda heard from her friends? This isn’t just about variety and images but practicing communications. Can I communicate such that a dancer gets that?”

Nodding, Lynda agreed, “I’m in for that. It turns out that Olivia and I wear the same shoe size. If you’d like, she will lend me things with higher heels. Yes, we know you two look at our legs and shoes. Damn it, though, you glance away, kind of embarrassed, when one of us notices you looking. We want you to look, and quite likely more.’

The two of them went off to Olivia’s dressing room. When they came back, the themes were white and black. Olivia had a black tuxedo-like top that partially covered her white corset, which boldly connected to white stockings and ankle-strapped pumps. The corset definitely lifted her small but perky breasts until there was an interesting sense of bulging over the neckline.

Lynda’s outfit was all black, out of Cabaret, complete with top hat. Olivia looked at the hat, nodded, went to her closet, and came back with a dramatic wide-brimmed hat, in the style of a forties movie star.

Lynda’s stocking clearly were fishnet, which moved from fashion to naughty, at least in her bold weave. “Now that I think about it, I need to be ready for posing at the piano.” She went back and slipped into a long, sequined gown, slit to the hip.

As with the visit by the two of us, I called ahead to Anna, the manager of Vivid. She encouraged us, saying we again were her guests, and she had lots of ideas. We told her of our musical ideas.

“Get here before opening, so we can try out some of those ideas.”

At Vivid

Anna enthusiastically welcomed us. “Let’s talk about music at first. I should note that Norma Jean and Marta are still talking about a wonderful experience. I certainly don’t expect you to be on stage all the time.”

We moved to the small stage. Lynda sat on the piano bench, initially facing us rather than the keyboard. Fingers stroking the thigh that came through the slit, she crossed her legs.

Olivia sat on another bench, with her guitar. She used that as part of her costume, putting its head in her now-significant cleavage. She bent her face to the top of the guitar and kissed it.

On the small stage, Anna told us, “Sometimes, you’ll accompany a dancer. I wasn’t assuming you’d dance, although I don’t rule that out. What I had in mind is that you two could perform between dancers and be exhibitionist at the same time. Lynda, at the piano bench, you can show more and more leg, and maybe stand to show more. Olivia, I thought the guitar could flash over your chest and crotch.

Marta and Norma Jean will be with the guys, but we need at least one more playmate. Or would you like that to be like last time, preferably not where someone was hurt, but taking on a girl after she finishes off a customer. Does that fit your ideal of nasty?

“Absolutely! John, does that appeal to you too?”

“Hell, yes! Lynda was telling me about the cum play. I’m playing with that in my mind but thinking about our gander game.”

Lynda took a deep breath. “Gander and cum play? Each of you with a girl, but maybe sharing between the two of you so Olivia and I can watch? That sounds fantastic. Again, nothing that takes away from your masculinity.”

We enjoyed the rehearsal. The first run-through didn’t have dancers joining us. Martine came by, bent, grinned, and patted crotches. “Do you two need immediate relief, or can you wait a bit? Maybe I’m not in a full dancer outfit, but I do remember, I think, how to give a blow job.

“We can wait,” I told her, “Mostly because we are working through some ideas with our partners.”

Our partners, still on stage, could whisper to one another. Olivia told Lynda, “This isn’t something that I expected, but I’m getting quite turned on by this, and eagerly looking forward to doing it with an audience. I’ve had neutral watching as in a fashion show, but otherwise, I’ve been leered at in professional presentations. Here, I can feel in control. It’s not exactly domination, but there is a sense that the audience wants whatever I am willing to give them.

“Even as a teenager, I was pretty good at managing the lechers in beauty pageants. This is much different. Didn’t you do some erotic stage things?”

“Not in the sense you’re asking. I did need to pose and flirt with some auditions. Leonard, the bastard, sometimes rented me out as an erotic model. It’s a shame, as I enjoyed some of his studio photography.

“But yes. I’m fantasizing like hell about doing stuff with an audience. We can try out some when we go see the guys. I know that Arnold is using all this to clear trauma. It sounds like we are as well.”